The Million Dollar Doll

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 299, 15 December 1923, Page 26

The Million Dollar Doll

TfyO. and GTflirMhomsm C/kitnons of tyne Jiyntn/ng Qhndaclon

WHO'S WHO IN THE STORY. TERENCE DESMOND (Terry), exquisite and convent-reared, unbelievably Innoher father's road house, while JULIET DIVINE, tbe st-aee name of her beautiful half-sister, whom Terry has Dot seen for years. Uvea like a princess, and l ;i lli s vaguely of n m illlonikirp. TKRRENCE DESMOND, their father. moody and selfish, formerly caretaker of an estate, Is now the proprietor of the Blue Moon, a roafl house. He Is anxious MRS. PARMALEE. owns Sllverwood. the estate of which Desmond was caretaker, whose rudeness to lorry, the latter will never forget, is the wife of MILES SHERIDAN, handsome nnd likeable, who. when Terry was a child, tarnished the money to send her to the convent, partly to ntone for his w!re - 8 rufleness. To Terr}- he Is always "The Prince." EUSTACE NA7.L.O, R wealthy Greek, unscrupulous with women, is Impressed by Terry's beauty, nnd her resemblance to Juliet' Divine, the famous st.ice beauty. He invites lipr to ?o for an amo ride, and on :lie way to New York he kisses her. CHAPTER XITT. The Bird Has Flown. Terry wriggled herself free in an instant, sprang up, and was thrown on to the seat again by the motion of the car. She fell against Nazlo's shoulder and he steadied her, but did not attempt to repeat his experiment. "Don't look so cross, little girl," he eaid. "I didn't mean any harm. You're only a child. You shouldn't have such a pretty back of a neck, if you don't want it" kissed!" and he laughed pleasantly. "Please take mc. home," Terry whispered. "I —don't want to go anywhere to dinner." "Now—now, we mustn't be silly!" the Shoe King gently scolded. "I've said 1 wa3 sorry. ° Isn't that enough? I tell you I'm on the square. If your father didn't know that, he wouldn't let mc takr you out. "j:'liese days girls don't .mind a fcjss 01 two , 1 swear they don't. You've been brought up in an old-fashioned way. But I understand you tetter, it'll be all right—you'll see. "I'm going to show you the nicest place in New York to dine. We'll have a beautiful Tttle room all to ourselves, and you shall choose just what you want "to eat. Say you forgive mc!" He took her hand, but, notwithstanding her father's advice, Terry snatched it away from him. "I hate being touched!" she said. Her heart was pounding, her ears burning. She feaTed the man. Precisely what he could do to hurt her sbe did not know, but the sight of him so near made her sick. How angry mother would be! Tears stung the girl's eyelids, but she would not let them falL (What ought she to do? It was clear that Nazlo would not take her home. ' She could not make him. If she leaned out of the window and called' the chauffeur, he'd obey Nazlo, not her. If she tried to spring out of the car, she would fall, and perhaps be killed. Yet she must make up her mind to some plan. There was just one thing certain: she would not dine with this man in the "beautiful little room all to themselves" which he described. Suddenly an inspiration came. The girl almost laughed with the relief and excitement of it. "Well, do you forgive met" Nazlo repeated. "If you'll let mc alone," Terry said. Tbe "Greek had been disconcerted for a moment. He had thought that the silly little chicken meant to make a wene, so now he accepted her concession thankfully. Anxious to win her 'back again, he began to talk of impersonal things: theatres, and roof gardens that she must go to some night in future. And as he spoke, Nazlo mentally set the etage for the next act. He'd give the child sweet champagne; she wouldn't like it dry, at first taste. "The nicest place in New York" owed 6ome of Us niceness to ingenuity in circumventing prohibition rules. Yes — sweet champagne, well iced. He could 6ee her sipping it ... They arrived at their destination. The chauffeur, long ago warned through the speaking tube, turned into a quiet side street and drew up in front of a door with clipped, dwarf box trees for sentinels. There was an instant when Nazlo watched the girl alertly, lest she meant, to give him the slip; but he took her arm with a chow of firmness, and she walked demurely into the entrance hall"la there a room where I could wash my face, and make my hair tidy?" she asked. Her eyes were wide and innocent. She flushed delicately as Nazlo tried to read her look. He was siira, at last, that she had recovered from the "flutters," and had settled down in a tractable mood. While she was shown up a short stairway to the ladies' cloak room, Nazlo occupied himself in engaging a private dining-room for two, and ordering such a dinner as he thought would delight a convent-child, new to New York. Fortunately, at that season of the year, the popular restaurant was not crowded. There were several rooms to choose from, and Nazlo selected one with decorations :o suit Terry Desmond's colouring, it was all v!iite and gold, with a few purple cushions. The Greek thought that the girl with the red hair and the simple black dress would be a dazzling beauty in that setting. When he had asked for yellow roses to be placed on the small round table, Nazlo went out to intercept Terry as she came downstairs. He had been so anxious to finish in time to meet her, that hardly ten minutes had passed; and he *-ailea patiently for eight or ten more. i!ut surely a girl like Teresa Desmond, innocent of paint and powder, wouldn't ueoa half an hour to banish the litt'.s du?t picked up in a limousine! Five minutes more he grudgingly gave. Then he sent a nn*saj;e to the cloak j-oom. A ■ yonirj lady with red hair and dark eyes, dresse 1 in mourning, was to be reminded that ilr. Xazk> was waiting and hoped S'ie ?fas all right. The boy who ran up to the cloak room attendant returned almost at once. The young woman said that no such young lady had come into the eloalc room that evening; an(i there wasn't anyone there now. For an instant Nazlo was dumb with rafe, rage at himself for his idiotic trustfuSiess,°rage at the girl for tbi cunningthat had deceived him. And undar tae

rage was sharp disappointment. His i heart felt hot and heavy, as it had not felt since he was young. | Then vanity rushed to the rescue. Ho knew that his face had reddened, for his forehead was damp. Eyes were fixed upon him in curiosity; and, hating , his humiliation, he laughed. "The little lady wants a jarao of tag with mc!" he said good-naturedly. "I suppose I must go catch her, and fetch , her back before she's tired of the game He went to the man at the door, and described Terry. -Perhaps you remember the vounfrpirl who arrived with mc half an 'hour ago," lie added. The man did remember. Ye?, he"d , noticed the younp lady go out alone, not more than five minutes after she CHAPTER XIV. An Unexpected Visitor. "The young lady had a letter in her j hand," the doorman informed him. He had asked if she would like it posted, but she said "No. thank you," she preferred to go out herself. "Did you see whether she took a taxi!" Nazlo inquired, controlling his voice. The man hadn't seen what the young lady did after she went through the revolving door. Others had come in about that time. He'd forgotten to j watch for her return. | Nazlo's blood pounded in his head, and j he had difficulty in concentrating. But i he was a man trained to master emotion | except at times -when he could afford the pleasure of letting it master him. He forced himself to face the question: "What would the girl be likely to do?" There was one thing certain. She wouldn't have run away if she'd meant to come back. And it seemed almost equally certain that, as this was her first visit to New York, she wouldn't go wandering about the streets. It seemed as if her one thought would be to get home. Probably she hadn't much money. No doubt, however, She would have enough for a ride in the subway, and the journey to Oldport by train. Like, a fool he'd told her, among other things, how easy it was to travel to New York from Long Island and back! Yes, she would run for home. That must be what happened. But it had not happened. ■ Terry had made use of a convent letter which she had in her pocket, in order to escape without rousing the door porter's suspicion. She was going to her sister's. She was going to find Jule. She had no money at all. Neverthe- i less, while Nazlo was studying a timetable, in order to head her off at the Pennsylvania station if it could be done, the girl was in a taxi. She had not dared to get into one in front of the restaurant, lest she might be seen, and traced. But having hurried round the corner, and walked very fast for a block and a half, she noticed a number of vehicles in front of a hotel. The girl had seen many couples arrive at the Blue Moon in such conveyances, and knew that they were not private cars. "Take mc to the Ardlamont, on Riverside Drive," she said, half afraid—in her ignorance—that she might be asked to pay in advance. If she had been, she planned to say, '"Sly sister lives there. She will give mc the money." But it was a relief that the man seemed to trust her. If Julia were not at home, maybe there'd be a servant, from whom she could borrow. But, oh, it was too bad to be true that Jule should be away! She hoped desperately that it might not be so. There was not only the difficulty about paying! She did not know what would become of her for that night unless she found Julia—or indeed for the nights to come, for she felt that she could never go back to live with her father. The drive seemed much longer than before, because the girl feared each moment to see Nazlo's great grey limousine. He had asked her why she was interested in Riverside Drive. He might come now to suspect from her questions and from the likeness to Julia, that they were related. Even when the taxi stopped, and the lighted pale brick bulk of the Ardlamont loomed above her, the girl peeped anxiously out of the window before she ventured to descend. But there was no automobile in sight resembling Nazlo's. The only one in front of the building was a dark-coloured car of much the same build, which looked black in the summer dusk. "Will you please wait a few minutes, and I'll bring you down the money, or send it," said Terry. The chauffeur made no objection to this proposal, and she was relieved. Yet her voice trembled as she asked a negrar in livery, inside the door, if he knew whether Miss Divine was at home. "No, I don't know, Miss," replied the man, staring, no doubt because of the resemblance. "I ain't seen her go out, and her auto ain't been around. But you'd better take the elevator up to her floor. It's the tenth." As he spoke, the smart-looking ntgro motioned towards a pair of sliding oak doors, which at that instant flew apart, showing a tiny room, with an electric light and red velvet seats round the wall. In it stood an oid negro in the same dark-green livery as the first. "Going up, Miss?" he asked. Terry had never seen an elevator, but she walked into the little room and was shot up and up, with appalling speed. The attendant was able to inform her that Miss Divine was in. He had taken a gentleman to call on her about fifteen minutes ago. At the tenth floor the black man pointed out a door at the left of a marble-paved corridor, and Terry touched an electric belL But her hands were cold despite the humid warmth of the night. Could tbe gentleman with Julia possibly be Mr. Nazlo? i She was kept waiting a few moments, ! and was just about to 'ouch the bell I again when the door opened. A tall, fine-looking mulatto woman in a black satin dress, a little lace cap and apron, and high-heeled shoes, gazed wide-eyed at the red-haired girl in mourning. Her expression showed astonishment. "Is Miss Divine in? Oh, I hope she is!" Terry almost gasped. "She— she's my sister." "My goodness! You sure did give mc a start, Miss!" exclaimed the maid. "Ye—es'm, she's in. I reckon if you're her sister she'll maybe see you. "But I ain't sure. She wasn't expectin' you, was she?" "No," Terry admitted. "I didn't know 1 T was coming. I live in the country, ! a long way off. Oh, but I'm sure shell see met ' Do let mc come in!" j (To be continued daily.) i